


If I'm Good Will You Come Back

by tinymacaroni



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon is So Done, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon's Parent, Found Family, Gen, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Tries His Best, Jaskier | Dandelion is a Noble, Pissed Off Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, also i very much ship geraskier/geraskefer but this fic is not about that, amazing devil lyrics title bc i am that bitch, and on a) geralt learning to be a better friend and b) geralt learning to be a dad at all, but like protective of ciri specifically, but there's other friendships involved, ciri gets no less than 3 parents and 1 cool aunt, the emphasis of this fic is on geralt & ciri & jaskier
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinymacaroni/pseuds/tinymacaroni
Summary: Six months after Geralt and Ciri finally (re)unite, they're looking for a place to hide from the Nilfgaardian forces, and land themselves in Lettenhove, where Geralt gets a surprise and finds out Jaskier - or, rather, Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove - can really hold a grudge.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt held Ciri close against his chest as he urged Roach on, faster, faster. The Nilfgaardians were catching up, and in a split-second decision he yanked on the reins, veering off the road into the woods. Roach was used to riding rough terrain, but with any luck the Nilfgaardians' horses wouldn't be able to follow them - a hope that was confirmed when he heard the sound of spooked horses and frustrated shouting. He let out a sigh of relief, warm breath ghosting over the top of Ciri's head, but he kept Roach at a brisk pace until the sun began to sink low on the horizon.

"We need to make camp for the night soon, and in the morning we'll have to figure out where we've ended up and who our nearest allies are. We can't keep running like this, we need supplies if we're to make it to Kaer Morhen before the snows block the pass." Ciri nodded, clutching Roach's saddle with a white-knuckled grip but keeping a level head even as he could hear her heart racing in her chest. He'd be impressed, if he didn't know exactly the kind of fear and hurt that filled a child with that sort of grim determination. _She's so young,_ he thought, _too young to have to worry about this kind of shit._ Half-formed memories of his own childhood surfaced, and he shook his head to clear them away. It hadn't exactly been a happy one, but he owed it to the girl to give her, if not a happy childhood, at least one where she knew she was loved and cared for.

"Here's a good spot," Ciri said as they passed a small copse of trees. "Right?" She turned to face him, looking for approval.

"Good cover if it rains, enough room for both of us, wood for a fire and plenty of grass for Roach. Well spotted, cub." She beamed with pride as he dismounted, swinging her out of the saddle after him. "Gather some wood for a fire while I get Roach settled?" She nodded again, dashing into the clearing to gather fallen branches as Geralt tied Roach's lead to the trunk of a thin tree.

Once the wood was gathered and Roach's back had been unladen, Geralt lay their bedrolls out on the ground and used Igni to light their fire before pulling out what scant food they had left. He gave most of it to Ciri, ignoring the gnawing hunger in his own stomach, knowing he'd been far hungrier for far longer and survived.

"Geralt?" Ciri's voice was thick with sleep as she leaned against his side. "Are we - yawn - are we gonna be okay?"

He hesitated, weighing how much of the truth she needed to hear right now as he put his arm around her shoulders, tucking her closer against him. "I don't know for certain, cub. But I do know I'll be here with you no matter what, and I know there's a lot of people out there trying to make things better."

"I hope they do." She yawned again, curling up tight and falling asleep on the witcher, who just smiled fondly as he tucked his cloak around her. If only Jaskier could see them now - he'd been appalled at how little Geralt wanted to do with his child surprise. He'd tried explaining to the bard that the Path was no place for a child, but his reasoning fell on deaf ears. Jaskier was convinced he was going to give the child a complex, abandoning her to be raised by Calanthe and her husband. Geralt refrained from pointing out that they were actually her family, and he was nothing more than a mutant who'd attracted too much of destiny's attention.

He wondered, idly, how Jaskier was doing these days. It had been a bit over a year since that damned dragon hunt, and Geralt still couldn't see cornflowers or hear birdsong without feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. He hoped more than he could put into words that Jaskier was okay.

That night, he dreamt of lutesong and chamomile, and in the morning he woke with a deep, aching sense of longing.

\---

"Alright cub." Geralt unfolded his map, spreading it out on top if his cloak to keep the morning dew from warping the parchment. "Where would you guess we are?"

Ciri considered for a long while, tracing her finger lightly over the roads marked on the map, and trying to pinpoint where they'd left the road and how far they'd gone. "Hm... here?" Her finger landed in a small wooded area just on the edge of the Cidarian border.

"Close." He moved her hand gently, pointing with her to a second wooded area, on the other side of the border. "Seems we managed to cross from Cidaris into Kerack when we were fleeing."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a good judge of travel distance, and I know Roach's travel speeds well. A Witcher's steed is second only to his swords, and swords are a lot more replaceable."

"You realize I'm not a witcher, right?" Green eyes met his, positively brimming with skepticism.

"Yes, but it's good knowledge to have." _It's the only knowledge I have to give you_ , he didn't say. "It looks like the nearest town is Lettenhove. Kerack was a good ally to the North the last time the war swept this way, we should be safe there for a little while." So saying, he folded the map back into his saddlebag and reached a hand out to help Ciri up. "C'mon cub, let's go." She took his hand and helped him ready Roach, letting him help her into the saddle and off they went.

The journey was, thankfully, uneventful. Ciri spent most of it half-asleep, the slow beat of Geralt's heart and the steady clop of Roach's hooves combining to make an unexpectedly soothing rhythm. It was early afternoon when Geralt rode Roach into Lettenhove, pulling up close to a signpost to see where to go. An arrow pointing west read Pankratz Estate, Viscounty of Lettenhove. It seemed like the best place to start, at least, and he pulled the reins gently to lead Roach down the dusty road, pausing only to check the town notice board and pull off a sheet of parchment announcing a contract on a beast near the estate. Hopefully it would get him in the gates easy enough.

\---

"This the Pankratz estate?" Geralt asked a guard standing beside the gate set into the low wall - more decorative than defensive. Small-time nobility always cared more about showing off their wealth than protecting it.

"What's it to you?" The guard peered suspiciously up at him, more irritated than afraid.

Geralt pulled the piece of parchment from his saddlebag, holding it out. "Saw the notice, here for the contract."

The guard's suspicion did not lessen. "Why's a Witcher got a kid?"

"Oh, her? She's bait," Geralt deadpanned, rolling his eyes when the guard drew his weapon, apparently taking him seriously. "She's my charge. Gonna let us in?" The guard hastened to open the gate, clearly ready to be done with this conversation, and Geralt rode on through, leading Roach to the stables on the side of the massive house.

"C'mon cub, time to wake up." He gently shook Ciri awake, helping her down from the saddle. "Still tired?" She nodded, and he crouched down in front of her. "Here, I'll carry you. Just don't choke me, yeah?" Her arms around his neck and his under her legs, he stood and carried her on his back around and to the front of the building. He followed the directions of a few guards until he came to a large, mostly-empty room, occupied only by a man seated on a dais against the opposite wall and another man standing quietly near him.

"Lord Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and heir to the esteemed Pankratz name," the second man called out as Geralt and Ciri grew nearer. "Geralt of Rivia, Witcher, and his charge." Done with the introductions, the servant stepped back into the shadows, and Geralt paused before the dais, head snapping up to stare at the noble as he caught a familiar scent.

"Jaskier?" Cornflower blue eyes peered down at him, devoid of recognition, but it was Jaskier, he was certain of it.

"I'm afraid I don't know- oh! The bard! Alas, I am not he, though you're not the first one to say we look alike. One of these days I simply must see him perform so I can see the similarities myself." His tone was jovial, but his eyes remained cold and distant, and Geralt's mind was reeling. This had to be Jaskier, he was dressed much more starkly than Jaskier ever dressed and he had grown a beard, but his scent, his voice, his eyes were all Jaskier's.

"But- J-"

"Now, down to business," the viscount interrupted, clapping his hands. "Am I correct in assuming you are here for the contract?"

Geralt could tell he wasn't going to get anything useful from Jaskier now, at least, and sighed in resignation. "Yes, lord."

"Wonderful! Mikael, ensure that Geralt and his charge are given appropriate lodgings, and have him meet me in my study in... oh, say an hour, to discuss the details of the contract."

"At once, sir." The servant - Mikael, presumably - nodded, stepping towards Geralt and Ciri and leading them down a hall, around a corner, and up a flight of stairs to a cozy bedroom. "I will return in one hour to show you to Lord Pankratz's study." With a small bow, Mikael turned and closed the door, leaving Geralt to disentangle Ciri from his limbs and lay her gently on the bed.

"Mn... Geralt?" She yawned as she scooted up the bed, sitting up against the pillows. "Who's Jaskier?"

"So you were listening, then." Geralt sat on the bed with a soft sigh, ruffling her hair with a broad, calloused hand. "Jaskier is the bard I used to travel with."

"Oh! I think he came to perform a few times back at- back-" She choked up, still struggling to talk about her home and what was left of it, and Geralt pulled her close, rubbing her back soothingly as he continued.

"He did, yeah. He and I travelled together on and off for a long, long time - longer than you've been alive."

"Why hasn't he travelled with us, then?"

"I... hurt him. Really bad. I was angry and hurt and I shouted at him, told him all my problems were his fault, and that I never wanted to see him again."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. Not my finest moment. Truth be told, he was annoying sometimes, but he was far from a bad companion. I was... Hm. I was never very nice to him, cub, and looking back I'm surprised he stayed with me as long as he did."

"Well..." She yawned again, curled up in his lap. "It sounds like you ought to apologize." He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

"Probably right, as usual. Now get some sleep, you're safe here, I promise." He laid her down in the bed, tucking the covers around her, confident that if Jaskier was running this place, there were few places on the Continent she'd be safer. She held the blankets tight around her shoulders, blonde waves spilling out onto the pillows like a halo, and he took a moment to just look at her, marvelling once more at how much she'd changed his life in so little time.

He stood then, taking a few things out of their bags, hoping they'd be able to stay here at least a few days - hoping that Jaskier's concern for Ciri would outweigh any anger or bitterness he felt towards Geralt. After he'd gotten out what he needed, mostly books and clothes and food for Ciri, he sat on the bench at the foot of his bed, polishing one of his swords, when a soft knock came at the door. Glancing at his charge to ensure the noise hadn't woken her, Geralt went up to the door, slipping through it and closing it near-silently. The servant gave him a quizzical look, and he kept his voice low, responding gruffly. "She needs rest."

"Ah, of course." The servant, not Mikael but a new fellow, kept his voice at a level even with Geralt's, gesturing for the Witcher to follow him down the hall. "Lord Pankratz wishes to see you to discuss the details of the contract, namely your reward and the beast involved." Geralt merely nodded; this much was par for the course for Witcher contracts. He just didn't know whether or not he hoped there were other topics on the agenda as well - like, perhaps, what Jaskier was doing ruling a small viscounty in the middle of nowhere.

When they reached the door to the study, the servant opened it silently and gestured for Geralt to enter, closing the door behind him and leaving him alone with the viscount. With Jaskier.

"Geralt." Jaskier spoke softly from behind the desk, looking up at the Witcher with a cool gaze.

"Jaskier, I'm sorry. I didn't mean- If I'd known you lived here, I wouldn't have-" Geralt stopped short as Jaskier raised a hand to quiet him.

"No, it's good you're here actually. It's good you've brought Ciri somewhere safe. I don't know how many other nobles could be trusted not to turn you over to Nilfgaard these days. I assume you plan to ask Yenn to train her in magic?"

"Yenn and Triss, yeah. Why?"

Jaskier sighed, looking his age for probably the first time since they'd met in Posada all those years ago. "Invite them here. They can stay, have a safe place for Ciri to train, at least until the pass to Kaer Morhen clears."

"We were going to-"

"You won't make it before the snows hit. Even if you left tonight, your chances would be slim to none. Do you really want to risk being stuck in Kaedwen for the winter?"

"How- how do you know all this?" Geralt's mind was reeling. This man - Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove - was so different than the free-wheeling, dramatic, impulsive bard he remembered.

"Don't insult me, Geralt. We travelled together for twenty years. I know how fast Roach travels, I know how far the pass is, I know the turn of the seasons has come and gone. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a fool, and I did pick up a few things during our travels." Jaskier's voice was sharp, and Geralt could smell the faint scent of indignant irritation on the air, the same as when someone insulted Witchers or the arts in the bard's presence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you paid attention to that kind of thing."

"Most people don't. Which, admittedly, is somewhat intentional. But that's beside the point. You and Ciri won't make it to Kaer Morhen, you need somewhere to keep her safe for the winter. I care about Ciri, and I know I can keep her safe. Stay here. Invite your sorceresses if you wish, I know Ciri needs to learn to control her powers. I do not want a repeat of Pavetta's wedding in my home, if it's all the same to you." Without thinking, Jaskier ran a thumb over one of his few scars - a thin line on his forearm, acquired at that same wedding, when he'd been thrown against the wall by Pavetta's scream.

Geralt did not miss that Jaskier said he cared about Ciri, yet said nothing about him. He squashed down the small part of him that was hurt by that; he deserved it, and regardless, now wasn't the time.

"Alright. Thank you, Jas- Julian. Thank you, Julian." An icy stare met his and he shivered, just a bit.

"You are in my home, and you will address me with respect. You may call me Lord Pankratz."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha jaskier's PISSED


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt returned to his borrowed quarters, a rolled piece of parchment in his hand detailing the particulars of his contract here. Nothing major, an endrega infestation at the edge of the gardens, for which he would be paid three hundred crowns. He tried to tell Jaskier to keep the money, he was already providing food and lodging for them for at least a month and a half, but he'd insisted.

Ciri was, unsurprisingly, still asleep, so he was careful to be quiet as he dug through his alchemy supplies. He needed more bloodmoss and hornwort to make his blade oil, and he made a note to ask around tomorrow to see if there was an herbalist nearby, or at least a sizeable lake. He'd also want Swallow and Golden Oriole on hand - he'd need to pick up more celandine, too.

It was still early enough that any nearby herbalists would still be open, and he knew he shouldn't dawdle on the contract, but after everything that had happened today he was ready to sleep for a week. Instead, he settled for taking off his armor and stepping out into the hallway. A guard was standing at attention near a door, which Geralt assumed led somewhere important, but that wasn't what he cared about right now.

"Where might I find some food for my charge and myself?"

The guard narrowed his eyes - like the rest of them, he was suspicious of this Witcher who'd shown up out of nowhere and been immediately given guest quarters. But, he saw no harm in giving the man food. Even witchers have to eat, he assumed. "Down the hall to the left, sitting room."

"Thanks." Geralt gave the man a nod as he walked away, following the simple directions and finding a few tables laden with berries, apples, small cuts of meat and cheese, and bread. He gathered up just enough for himself and Ciri and returned to their room, setting aside her share and tucking into his own. There were, of course, rations in his pack, but the food in noble houses always tasted better.

Hunger sated, he knelt beside the bed to meditate, a quiet blanket of nothingness settling over his thoughts. After just a few minutes, though, he was shaken awake by a small hand attached to a thin wrist. "Geralt. Geraaaalt. Is that food for me?"

"It is, yeah. I already ate. Sleep okay?" Ciri shrugged, which he took to mean "not really, but at least it was in a bed this time," and dug into the food he handed her, tearing off chunks of bread and piling them with fruit or cheese before shoving them into her mouth. He had learned quickly on the road with her that, while she was fully capable of eating delicately - like a princess should, according to her grandfather - she didn't much care for it, and wouldn't bother unless it was necessary. She seemed to feel that way about a lot of the rules and etiquette of court, and he'd found that the more she shirked those rules, the greater his fondness for her grew.

"So," she said, wiping crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand. "Did you talk to your bard?"

"He's not _my_ bard, but yes, I did."

"How'd it go?"

"Got the contract - endregas, gotta pick up some herbs tomorrow to mix what I'll need. And Jaskier - that is, Lord Pankratz - has agreed to let us stay here for the winter. We can ask Triss and Yenn if they'll come up, they can train you."

She rolled her eyes, poking him in the ribs. "You know that's not what I meant."

Geralt sighed, leaning back against the bed, his head next to her leg. "He's still mad at me. Might never not be mad at me. But I deserve it, and he's letting us stay for your sake, which is all that matters."

"It is _not_ all that matters."

"It's all that matters to me."

"You're full of shit."

He turned and scowled at her. "And who the fuck taught you to swear?"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I've only had you for half a year. Can't pin that on me."

"You've met my- the queen." Geralt didn't miss the way her breath hitched when she couldn't make herself say "grandmother," but wasn't going to say anything if she didn't. "Can I braid your hair?"

Geralt sighed, pushing himself to sit up straight with his back facing her. "Fine, but none of that fancy Toussaintois shit. I'd like to keep some of my dignity if someone sees me."

"You're no fun." Regardless, she combed her fingers through his hair, separating the white strands into three roughly even sections. He closed his eyes, relaxing into her touch and moving his head where she guided it. She hummed a tune as she braided and he could imagine her tongue poking out between her lips, the same way it did when she studied Elder speech or got stuck on a particularly difficult bit of footwork. He wasn't entirely certain when he'd begun to notice those little things, but it comforted him to know them - the familiarity of her presence and the ease of their banter causing a warmth he'd never felt before to gradually settle in his chest.

She clapped her hands when she was done, pulling Geralt to the mirror so he could see her handiwork. It was neatly done, years of practice evident in the even strands and tight plaits, but-

"I thought I told you not to do any of your fancy Toussaintois crap."

"This isn't Toussaintois, it's Temerian. And I think it looks lovely on you."

He rolled his eyes, running the tips of his fingers over the two delicate braids that ran down the sides of his head, meeting in the back where they tucked into a third, larger braid. "That's fine, cub. We'll just have to see how long you can hold your bear stance during training tomorrow."

"What? Nooooo, Geralt, I hate bear stance." She pouted, and he almost broke. Almost.

"Too bad, it's an important part of your training." He ruffled her hair, smiling gently. "Speaking of tomorrow, it's getting late. You should go to bed."

"I just woke up not half an hour ago!"

"And if you stay up, you're gonna feel like shit in the morning."

"But I'm not tired."

"Gonna have to learn to lie better than that if you want to fool me, kiddo. It's been a long couple of nights - hell, it's been a long few months. Get back into the nice soft bed and get some rest." He nudged her toward the bed and she scowled, but did as she was told - in all honesty, she was still tired and sore, and the bed was terribly comfortable. But she didn't like to lose.

"G'night, cub." This time when she got into bed, he turned the lamps down and snuffed out the few candles on the bookshelves and chests of drawers. Before she drifted off, she reached for his hand, where she knew he'd be meditating beside the bed. He squeezed her hand in his briefly, reassuringly, before letting it slip and falling into that not-quite-sleep he so often relied upon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a lot to say about this one - hope you enjoy though!


	3. Chapter 3

Morning came with a sharp knock on the door, pulling Geralt from his meditation and startling Ciri, who sat straight up, clutching the blankets.

"Hey, cub, shh. It's okay." Geralt reached his hand out for hers, running his thumb soothingly over the back of her hand. "We're in Lettenhove, remember? We're safe, you're safe." She nodded, but jumped a bit nonetheless when the knock came again. Geralt forced his irritation down - no need for her to think she was the cause, when he was mad at whoever kept knocking - and stood to open the door, coming face to face with Mikael. "Yes?"

"Lord Pankratz would like to invite the witcher Geralt and his charge, Fiona, to breakfast in his study." The servant stood expectantly, and Geralt wrinkled his brow.

"Uh... sure. Tell him we'll be there shortly." Mikael nodded and left, presumably to deliver Geralt's decision, and Geralt shut the door, turning back towards Ciri. "You feeling up to breakfast?"

\---

Getting ready was a fairly quick thing - neither of them had anything clean to bother changing into, though Ciri did run a brush through her hair before Geralt led her down the corridors to the study. He knocked at the door before opening it cautiously, relaxing just a touch to see it was only Jaskier in the room.

"Come in, come in." The bard-turned-noble gestured to them, and the moment the door was shut behind them his face broke into a smile. For just a moment, Geralt's heart lifted, until- "Ciri!" Jaskier lifted and spun her in the air, much to the girl's delight. "Oh I haven't seen you in ages, you've grown so much! It's ever so lovely to see you, my dear." Of course - Ciri had mentioned that the bard had played at a few feasts during her childhood, when Geralt was still avoiding both the kingdom and his child surprise.

"Jaskier!" She was still grinning when he set her down in one of the plush chairs by the window, and despite his discomfort around Jaskier, Geralt was so glad to see her smiling again.

"Now now, darling, none of that." Jaskier pressed his finger to his lips, lowering his voice just a touch. "While some of the folk here in the house know about my 'travels,' it's not common knowledge outside these walls, and several of those who live here would like to keep it that way. Around others you should address me by title - Lord Panktraz - but even in confidence, I want you to call me Julian. Better to keep up good habits. Which reminds me," he added, handing her a slice of honeyed bread before moving back behind his desk. "We need to come up with a cover story for you two."

"Cover story?" Amber eyes tracked the noble's movements warily.

"Well I can't very well have word spread that I'm keeping the princess of Cintra in my home, can I?"

"I suppose not." Geralt crossed his arms, shifting his weight. "What did you have in mind, then?"

"Ciri can work in the kitchens - if that's alright with you, my dear?" He glanced over at Ciri, who nodded silently. "Lovely. And Geralt, as there's really no hiding your identity, you'll have to act as my bodyguard. Can't exactly think of any other reason a witcher would hang around here, after all."

"Hmm." He couldn't say he was looking forward to spending so much time at Jaskier's side, but he had to admit it was a good plan.

"Well, if that's settled, shall we?" Jaskier - no, Julian. That would take getting used to. Julian took a strawberry off a platter, raising it in a mock toast before biting into it delicately. Geralt took some eggs and a biscuit from another platter, loading them onto his plate, and Ciri followed suit, smearing her biscuit with jam. They ate in awkward quiet, Jaskier and Ciri occasionally cracking jokes over their breakfast, Geralt sitting silently, feeling distinctly out of place.

This was going to be a long winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm working on like 5 or 6 projects rn plus my actual work schedule so thanks for being patient when new chapters take a bit ^^;


End file.
